Support System
by Kayje De La Rosas
Summary: TW: Self Harm and Attempted Suicide. Zosia's life spirals out of control after the death of a patient pushes her beyond her breaking point, choices she makes will change her life forever and pushes her friends and colleagues to evaluate their own lives and the support that Zosia needs. Set after Tristan Wood's death but before Jasmine's.
1. Chapter 1

I crumbled and crumbled spectacularly at that. I strayed so far from my normal life and now I'm spiralling between overwhelmed and euphoric, it's unpredictable, but it's never a dull moment in my fractured mind. I'm not quite sure what has triggered it this time, have I been taking my meds? I mean I'm pretty sure that I have been.  
It's not a usual day, a few observation cases in today, nothing too major for me to handle. If anything, Darwin is experiencing a truly rare phenomenon.  
I look down at the cup of coffee in my hands, watching it as it shakes gently in my unsteady hands. The phone rings, I pick it up and answer in the politest tone I can muster.  
"Darwin?"  
I reach for a pen and a nurse slips a pad of paper across to me and I begin to write down some quick notes, nodding to myself as the information is reeled off to me at a quick pace.  
"Right, we'll will have a bed sorted for her arrival, thank you." I speak in to the receiver.  
I place the receiver down, and head towards Jac Naylor's office, I knock, waiting a moment before opening the door.  
She's sat at her desk, looking up at me as I walk in.  
"Jac, we've got a fifteen-year-old girl being sent up from ED. She has arrhythmogenic right ventricular cardiomyopathy and has suffered from a blackout this morning on the way to school." I explain.  
"Is she showing any other symptoms?" Jac asks as she gets up.  
"She's breathless and her heart rhythm is abnormal. That's all that I can share now.  
Jac nods and walks towards me, let's meet them on the ward.  
We walk out onto the ward together and meet up with and greet our patient and her parents.  
"Do you want to take the lead Dr March?" Jac says proudly.  
I nod and clear my throat.  
"This is Hollie McAllister, she's fifteen years old and has arrhythmogenic right ventricular cardiomyopathy. This morning she collapsed on the way to school. She's experiencing shortness of breath and has an abnormal heart rhythm." I explain. Jac smiles and walks away looking satisfied, I know that she would happily come help me if I had any questions or problems.  
I turn to Hollie's parents and introduce myself, their faces clouded with worry for their little girl. I explain to them what I was going to do, and they nodded as they took in my every word. I turn my attention to my patient, face covered with an oxygen mask, heart readings abnormal. She gives a small smile.

I've helped to monitor Hollie every 10 minutes all day, and I take some time to pop in to see how she is feeling when her parents go down to Pulses. She definitely looks brighter, the oxygen mask no longer on her face. She mentions about her upcoming exams and I ask her if she's thought about what she wants to do when she leaves school.  
"Not sure yet, I wanted to be a nurse, but I think it would be too much for me." She says with a sad smile.  
"I'm sure with the right support and medication, you would be able to give it a go." I smile. Her eyes light up.  
"You think?" She smiles.  
"Who knows, you'll go far I bet." I ease, Hollie goes quiet and closes her eyes, immediately the monitor starts screaming out, her BP's at zero, I lower the bed and begin chest compression, pleading with her to keep living. Jac rushes onto the ward within minutes as I desperately try to resuscitate Hollie. The monitors still screeching at me.  
"Dr March." Jac eases. "What happened?"  
"Sudden cardiac arrest. We were talking, and she just stopped." I explain breathlessly.  
"How long has she been in arrest?" Jac asks as she checks for Hollie's pupil response. There's no reaction from Jac except a small sad sigh.  
"A few minutes now." I reply, Jac places a hand on my shoulder.  
"Dr March, it's time to stop. She's gone." Jac says sadly.  
"What? No." Comes my meek reply. "It's not even been five minutes, come on." I'm pleading with Jac.  
"Zosia. There's no pupil reaction. She has suffered brain death, there is nothing more you can do." Jac eases sadly as I reluctantly stop resuscitation.  
I step back, blinking at Hollie's now still form, my arms, my heart aching.  
"Time of death; 15:52." Jac's voice sighs as the monitors are silenced.  
Minutes ago we were talking about her future, her hopes, and now, silence. Silence comes from the teenager lying serene on a hospital bed.  
I walk away, out into the corridor and towards the staff room. I push the door open and flop down onto the sofa. I've messed up. Big style. What did I miss? I did all the required tests, I observed her closely. Why is she now dead? I place my head in my hands and let out a long, sad sigh. I still must tell her parents, I must tell them that their daughter, their beautiful fifteen-year-old daughter is dead, and I can't shake the feeling of being at blame.

I sit for a while and try to gather myself, my head in my hands. What did I miss? Forty-five minutes have passed, Jac has left me to gather myself, and various people have been in and out and in all honesty, I couldn't say if anyone had spoken to me as I sat in my silent reverie.  
I eventually shake my head and stand up, I still have all the paperwork to fill out. I head towards the nurses' station and ask for Hollie's notes, I can sense her watching me from afar, her red, poker straight hair is not exactly subtle. You could always tell when Jac was in the room, the atmosphere changed somewhat. I don't understand why, she's just doing her job, who cares if she prefers her own company when she leaves the hospital, her life is her own.  
I fidget with my stethoscope as I write, Jac has not moved from my eye line, she's observing from a distance, I'm not an idiot. She can probably see that I'm nervy and on edge. I'm. I'm scared of what is going to happen next if I'm being truly honest. I'm don't think that I am fully in control. Not now anyway.  
Mo gently touches my hand.  
"I'm sorry about the ARVC case." She speaks gently and kindly, I nod in acknowledgement, she then tells me that Jac had kindly spoke to Mr and Mrs. McAllister, and delivered the heart-breaking news about Hollie, she explained to them the ins and outs of what had happened, the process of what would happen next, she'd taken the awful job and saved me a heart wrenching conversation.

I end up in the staff room again, frantically writing questions in my notebook that I had picked up off the staff room table, before getting angry with myself and snapping the book shut and tossing it on to the sofa. I stand beside the window watching the clouds crossing the sky, my mind is racing, I'm going over my actions, minute by minute, second by second trying to figure out what happened; did I make a mistake? Did I overlook something? Did I miss something important?  
I need to stop; I can't stop, I need to understand. I need to know why she died.  
I walk across to the sofa, and sit myself down. I pick my notebook up and open it again, the frantic scribbles of information jump at me, musings of someone desperate for answers.  
Ollie tries hard to sound comforting as he appears behind me, but all I feel as he talks is an absolute red-hot rage coursing through my already conflicted body. He places his hand on my shoulder in support and I erupt in an awful torrent of hurtful and cruel words.  
This doesn't go unnoticed, and Jac soon appears in the doorway a scowl adorning her face.  
"Oliver!" She snaps over our commotion in the staff room. "What the hell is going on here?" She taps her foot impatiently as we both look at her.  
"My office." She barks. "Now!"  
Both Ollie and I saunter out of the room and Jac follows behind us in haste. We stop at her door and she brushes past us and into her office.  
"Close the door behind you." She snaps as she makes her way to her chair. We both stand in front of her desk, Ollie immediately protesting his innocence beside me, I stay silent, looking at my feet.  
"Oliver. Shut up." She snaps, and he stops babbling away looking at her in surprise.  
"You are no longer allowed to serve your judgement on Zosia's life. You lost that privilege when you hooked up with my sister. If you get involved and then get your head bitten off, I can totally understand why." She says strongly.  
"If I so much as see you getting involved with things that do not concern you I will make sure that you get the small cases. Now get back to work." He turns on his heel and leaves the room.  
I haven't dared look up from her feet since I came into the office. Tears pooling in my eyes. Anger, fear, sadness, pooling in my stomach.  
"Zosia," She eases. "look at me. Please."  
It takes an age before I look up at her, tears now silently falling from my eyes.  
"It wasn't your fault Zosia." She speaks kindly.  
"You know that with ARVC there is a chance of sudden death. Holly just sadly fell into those statistics we so hate." Jac tries to talk sense and understanding into me.  
"I should have realised." I reply, my voice thick.  
"There was no way to know that the tide was going to turn so fast. Zosia, you did everything you could to help her." Jac eases.  
"I didn't do enough." I sigh.  
She stands up from her seat and gestures to her sofa.  
"Come sit down. You did more than you possibly could have." Jac says as she wraps an arm around me and directs me gently towards the sofa. I sit down and Jac sits beside me.  
"I didn't do enough!" I snap at Jac angrily. "I should have done more, been more attentive, recognised the signs." I'm venting, that's exactly what I need, I need to let it all out.  
"Go home Zosia, go take some time and start again tomorrow." Jac offers gently.  
"No." My reply is blunt and harsh. "I need to know why."  
"Tomorrow we will look over everything, but right now it's raw. Take time to sort yourself out. I'm not asking Zosia, I'm telling you to go home." Jac says sternly.  
I sigh heavily, then stand up and walk away without another word.

I wander slowly towards the locker room my head spinning with questions which had non-existent answers, at least not yet. I threw open my locker door in a fit of anger, the sound of it colliding with the next locker making me flinch. Everything right now is surreal, like I'm watching my own life implode in front of me. But it's not my life that is shattered into pieces, I haven't lost a child.  
I pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder, taking care as I shut and lock up my locker. I don't look back as I walk towards the stairway, even as Ollie calls out my name, I ignore him and put my head down.  
I take a slow walk down the stairs, counting them mentally as I try to make sense of the last few hours, everything is a blur. Patients have become a muddled mess of symptoms, I clash them with others as I still try to think about Hollie.  
Before I know it, I am standing outside of the hospital, it's began to rain, and the cool air feels nice on my face. I hail a taxi and get in, saying my home address as I sit quietly in the back.  
I watch the world go by in a blur of homes and trees, the driver tries to make small talk, but I don't pay much attention to the words, forming quick and simple answers to what I do hear. When we eventually pull up to my place, I hastily hand him his fare and tell him to keep the change, he nods and says his thanks and then says to me in a gentle tone. "I hope you feel better soon."  
"Me too." I find myself replying with a small smile. "Thank you."

I push open the front door and call out for Dom, unsurprisingly, he is not home. We are passing ships most days, I could have done with seeing him. A friendly face wouldn't go amiss right now. I dump my bag on the floor, just out of the way of the front door and make my way towards the kitchen, tears freely falling from my eyes, Hollie's face behind my eyes. I failed her, she's dead. I steel myself against the kitchen top and pick up the various bits of crockery and cutlery and place them in the sink. I sob out loud and pick up the knife with the intention of placing it in the sink with the rest of the washing up, but I sink to the floor and weep, still holding on to the sharp instrument.  
It happened in a split second of haziness, the knife in my hand was now covered in blood, my own blood which I had spilled, it was no longer a cry for help, there is some sort of an intent behind it, but right now I'm not sure if it's death I seek or just punishment. I'm overwhelmed and ever so slightly ashamed as I look at the deep gashes on my arm, but my face, I can feel it curling into a sinister smile, am I proud of what I have just done? Or is it just the mixture of the overwhelming emotions colliding at breakneck speeds in my head? This wasn't just about Hollie, this was a mixture of everything, my mental illness being the driving force behind my now self-destructive behaviour.  
I know that these gashes are going to need stitching, that's a given, they look deep and my arm is covered in bright venous blood, everything is covered in blood. I move the knife towards my arm again, this time lower, I hover above my already bloody wrist and in those few seconds I decided that this was to be my fate, to be executed by my own fractured mind and now shaking hand. I need release, I need to not feel like this anymore. It's not like anyone cares anymore anyway.  
I let myself fall to the ground, tears silently rolling down my face. I'm giving up and then this voice calls out into my flat.

Jac bloody Naylor.


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN: Hi guys, well I'm not going to lie I am a procrastinator.. ..I had planned to be super efficient and update this regularly, but here we are what, nearly 6 months later? Sorry for the super long wait, I'd promise to be quicker with the next update, but I wouldn't bet on it.. sorry... I will try though.. KDLR x**_

**

I feel bad for sending Zosia home, but she needs some time away, she needs some time to wind down and somehow try to clear her mind. The death of anyone is hard, be it sudden and unexpected, or after a long battle, but a child? That pain never really goes away, I still recall the first child who died on me, way back when I was a junior doctor. That pain, the feeling of helplessness as you try to work out what you could have done different; The should I, could I and would I tropes hurt more the longer they stick with you. This isn't and probably wouldn't be Zosia's last child death, that much is a sad fact of this job, but Hollie's death has cut right to the bone in a sense of affecting her. The death of a child evokes a sadness that I hope no one ever should feel, let alone as a doctor but as a family.  
I wander into the staffroom and stare out the window for a moment, my mind preoccupied. I feel uneasy, something is clearly not right, Zosia normally fights her corner, and often doesn't hold back, it is one of the things I admire about her. What am I missing?  
I spot Zosia's notebook on the side of the sofa. I walk over and pick up the notebook leafing through it. It's full to the brim of hastily written questions, all of them connecting to Hollie and possible reasons for her death.  
"Oh Zosia." I sigh dejectedly. She's looking for answers. Sometimes there aren't any, sometimes death is just one of those sad and awfully unavoidable things. My heart is aching for her; Hollie's death was not her fault.  
I carefully read each quickly written line, trying to understand Zosia's mind. Midway through her heartbroken ramblings a line catches my eye. Five words, unassuming, yet they leap at me as a plea:  
' _I can't do this anymore.'  
_ The words hit me like a brick, fear immediately washes over me in huge waves, I can feel my face paling as I read the words over and over trying to make sense of them.  
Then it dawns on me; I've sent her home.  
"Oh god. What have I done?" I mutter quietly to myself as I place her notebook under my arm and rush to my office. I grab my coat from behind the door and pull it on swiftly. I pick my bag up and head towards the nurse's station placing Zosia's notebook in my bag as I spot Mo.  
"Mo, I need you to take charge for a little while, I've got an errand to run." I say hurriedly.  
"Everything alright Jac?" She calls after me I was outwardly panicking now.  
"I'll call to update in a bit." I call back. It had been over an hour since she'd left, I don't even know where to start looking for her.

I opt for the stairs, taking them two, three at a time as I rush to the ground floor. I pass various people on my way down, but take no notice of them as I rush by.  
"Move!" I hear myself snapping at a pair of nurses as I push past them in the reception. The cool air hits me as soon as I make it outside.  
I need to find her, I need to know that she is alright, this deep-seated worry is engulfing me. I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Jonny to get him to pick Emma up from the childminder.  
"Jac? Is everything alright?" He asks as my free hand fiddles with my car keys.  
"Yes and no, but don't worry it's not Emma or myself, just... work." I reply, it's not exactly a lie but it's not quite the truth.  
"Do you need me to collect Emma?" He asks with understanding.  
"Please, Jonny I would appreciate that, I'll keep you up to date with things." I hear myself sigh.  
"Are you sure that you're alright?" Johnny asks in genuine concern.  
"Yeah." That one was a lie. A big fat Jac Naylor 'everything is fine when actually everything is going to shit' lie. "I'll call Francis and let her know you're coming to get Emma. Do you know how long you'll be?" I ask forcibly brighter.  
"An hour at most. Are you sure that you're alright? You sound out of breath." Jonny asks, for an annoying little man he does actually care.  
"Cleared Darwin to ground floor in about 80 seconds, nothing to worry about." Again, another half-truth but right now I don't care. Zosia is all I care about. Jonny stays silent obviously disbelieving of my explanation.  
"I'll call Francis." He says eventually. "I'll tell her you got held up at work."  
"Thank you, Jonny. I'm going to go now. Could you please text me when you pick Emma up, and will you tell her that I love her?" I say almost quietly.  
"Of course Jac." Jonny replies.  
"Thank you." I say as I hang up the phone and thrust it into my coat pocket.  
I unlock the car and get in, trying to decide of where Zosia could be. I decide that the best place to start would be at her flat.

It takes me a little while to navigate through the city traffic, but after some careful speeding I pull up outside the address I remember so well for never actually being there before. I rush out of my car, and run up towards the front door, not looking back to check if I had locked the car or not. I debate in my head whether to knock or just go in, surely, it's not illegal if you are concerned for someone, right? This could also be the totally wrong address, she could have moved or even gone elsewhere. I may even come face to face with Dom, I should have probably messaged him before embarking on this mercy mission, but my overwhelming gut feeling is still screaming a 'find Zosia, explain later' mantra. I try the front door handle and I gives underneath my weight, I let go a sigh of relief in knowing that I don't actually have to break in as the door opens.  
I call out into her flat, it's almost silent as I walk towards the couch carefully listening for Zosia whilst desperately hoping that she is here. Something clatters on the floor in the kitchen beside me.  
"Zosia?" I ease as in glance around the unit, my heart pounds as I notice blood, my eyes scanning the barely conscious young woman slumped against the units. I pull my phone out of my pocket and hastily call for help as I go to her.  
"It's alright." I soothe. "I'm here."  
She's looking up at me as I crouch beside her. I pull her into my lap.  
"Oh Zosia." I say sadly as I wrap my hands tightly around the deep wrist wound, I tighten my grip more, urgently trying to stop the blood leaving her body. She thrashes against me and manages to hit me with her bloody arm a few times as she does, I rock back in recoil, keeping a firm grip of the deep wounds on her wrist. I can feel the sting of a cut on my own face and tears welling up in my eyes as I plead with her.  
"Please Zosia, let me help you."  
She relaxes suddenly sending a wave a panic through me, I look down and she is gazing up at me. Zosia's eyes are watering too as she gazes back at me, a silence descends on us both as I try to think straight.  
"I'm scared." Zosia croaks. My heart shatters as I gaze at her struggling to stay conscious.  
"It's alright Zosia, I've got you; you're going to be OK." I soothe as she slips into unconsciousness. I cling on to her bleeding wrist.  
"Keep fighting Zosia, please don't die on me." I plead.  
The ambulance seems to be taking forever to arrive. Admittedly, I'm panicking and I'm streaming with tears as I try to stop the incessant bleeding from Zosia's wrist. I'm scared, a bright life is bleeding out under my fingers. A woman who has struggled with mental health issues, a young woman who has carried this all alone. I should have extended an ear to listen, I should have taken the time to be kinder to her, I should have been a better mentor.

Footsteps approach me as the paramedics arrive, I reel off stats and information. Her name, Zosia: it reverberates around my head as I let the paramedics take over. I plead with her to keep living and gently kiss her forehead, it's irrational and strange, I deal with patients who are critically ill, and occasionally those who are receiving end of life care, but watching a student. A friend even, it's overwhelming and terrifying. I bring my hands up, they're covered in blood, some of it is dry in places, I stare blankly at them before returning my attention to Zosia. The paramedics are working diligently on her. They're calm and professional as they speak to me. The younger man wrapped his arm around my shoulder in comfort.  
"Ms. Naylor?" He eases, I turn my gaze to him, blinking as he draws me back to some sort of sense, I don't even remember his name. "I'm just going to clean your hands and face. Take some of the blood off. Is that alright?" He's gently spoken and kind as I nod, he has a damp wash cloth in his hands and begins to gently wipe my face as I blink back more tears.  
"Hey," He soothes. "My colleague, he's taking good care of Zosia. We're going to get her to hospital and she's got a fighting chance thanks to you." His voice is kind and caring as he explains the things that I already know. I flinch as he cleans the cut under my eye barely breathing myself, holding a breath I didn't realise I was holding, this was wrong. How did I let it get so bad for Zosia? How did I not see her struggling until it was seemingly too late for her? A hidden anger is bubbling up inside of me, and it's not because Zosia has tried to make an attempt on taking her life. It's an anger where I feel like I have let her down. What kind of person does that make me? Am I really such an ice queen that I cannot see someone suffering so much? I sob aloud, the initial adrenaline rush wearing away as the seriousness of the situation fully dawns on me;

Zosia has tried to take her own life.


End file.
